


Magnets

by Mntsnflrs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AU, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Opposites Attract, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28015095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: Ten was confident when Doyoung felt weak from insecurity. He’d hold them both up with ease, grinning through it all. He was happy when Doyoung felt melancholy, either cheering him out of the gloom or holding him until the clouds began to part. Ten was small and warm, with delicate wrists and a smile barely happy enough to hide the uncertainty in his eyes, and if Doyoung had known just how strong he truly was when they’d met on that hot beach, he never would have risked entering the apartment with the pretty view and the free tap water.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 36
Kudos: 238





	Magnets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryofsoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryofsoul/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy, darling! xo

Growing up, Doyoung had never honestly believed that opposites attract outside of science. It made sense for magnets, but not for people. How would he grow to love someone that didn’t share the same ideals as he did? The same interests? The same hobbies? It didn’t make sense for two souls unalike in form to merge perfectly. It didn’t make sense to find peace in someone unfamiliar.

It didn’t make sense to see Ten across a long stretch of beach, up to his knees in blue salt water, and want to be beside him. It didn’t make sense, but Doyoung had felt it nonetheless, as if they were more magnet than human. As if Ten, unique in his form and spirit, could mould his surroundings to fit his sharp and soft edges.

He’d met Doyoung’s gaze across the sand, smiling like he knew exactly what he was doing. When he’d approached, slow and cocky, Doyoung hadn’t moved away like he should have.

“You like what you see?” Ten had asked, pushing his damp hair out of his face. A tattoo flashed below the wet sleeve of his white shirt, dark against his glowing skin.

“That’s a very arrogant assumption,” Doyoung had said.

Ten just laughed, eyes shining. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses, despite the brightness of the day or the heat reflected off of the pale sand. “I’ve noticed you didn’t answer,” he said. “Who’re you here with?”

“No one,” Doyoung had said, almost embarrassed of his own need for peace. On a hot summer day, sometimes all he wanted was to stare out into the ocean and hold an unread book.

Ten nodded. He flicked his chin to a rowdy pile of towels and men. “I’m here with friends, but they’re all pretty busy, and I could do with some water. Wanna go get some drinks?”

“I don’t have my wallet with me,” Doyoung had said, gesturing down to his shorts. All he had on his person were his sunglasses and his shitty romance novel.

“I could buy you a drink, it’s no problem.”

“I don’t like owing people money.”

Ten’s grin had widened. “That’s where we differ,” he’d said. “But if you’d prefer, my apartment is only a couple of minutes away. It’s a loft conversion, so it has good views, and a sweet little balcony. I could offer you some very free tap water, if that would interest you.”

Doyoung hated meeting strangers, the odd obligation born from politeness and the desire to know just one more person. He hated it, and the innate danger that came with brushing against the unknown. Ten was unknown, but he was also small. Small and warm, with delicate wrists and a smile barely happy enough to hide the uncertainty in his eyes.

“Sure,” Doyoung had said. “I’ll take some tap water.”

-

And it wasn’t like he’d thought Ten had been lying about the nice view, but it was just that Doyoung hadn’t expected to see it from a horizontal perspective, Ten asleep on his bare chest, the warmth between them no longer from the sun and sand.

His mouth was dry; he was yet to have that glass of water.

But still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. Ten was as light as a sparrow, but moving him would have taken the same effort as moving a boulder. Whether his bones were hollow or filled with lead, Doyoung couldn’t face the thought of waking him, of separating their skin, of looking away from the setting sun and the seagulls that flew past the window.

-

Years of familiarity took away the allure of the unknown and replaced it with comfort.

Doyoung never become bored of that view, or the feeling of Ten asleep on his chest amidst his messy sheets and cluttered bedroom.

The lack of organisation gave Doyoung something to consistently complain about, but unlike his past partners, Ten never took the bait. He laughed off every single snide remark, and then took revenge in even pettier ways, slipping cucumber into Doyoung’s coffee, pouring baby oil into the shower so that Doyoung went flying when he was already late for work because Ten had insisted on riding him well after their last alarms had rang.

They lived vastly different lives. Sometimes they felt entirely separate, like each month Doyoung would come home to a darker sky and barer trees, the apartment empty as though he lived alone.

Ten would come home at all hours; his art leading him into the most obscure shifts. Sometimes he’d be so tired that he couldn’t even reach the bed. Doyoung would find Ten asleep on the couch the next morning, reminded him that no matter how some dark evenings felt, he’d still see Ten in the morning. Beautiful or exhausted, Ten would be there – in bed on his chest, or half on the floor, only one leg fully on the seat of the couch cushions.

It took longer than he’d care to admit to acknowledge that sometimes opposites were good.

Ten was confident when Doyoung felt weak from insecurity. He’d hold them both up with ease, grinning through it all. He was happy when Doyoung felt melancholy, either cheering him out of the gloom or holding him until the clouds began to part. Ten was small and warm, with delicate wrists and a smile barely happy enough to hide the uncertainty in his eyes, and if Doyoung had known just how strong he truly was when they’d met on that hot beach, he never would have risked entering the apartment with the pretty view and the free tap water.

Doyoung had wide shoulders and a stern expression, but at times on the inside he felt like a hollowed winter tree, the space in his chest perfect for nesting birds and very little else. Ten was short and skinny, but he was startlingly solid.

He was solid, secure, but the times that he faltered, he found Doyoung’s hollow chest the perfect size for rest.

Things weren’t perfect, but nothing ever was.

Ten had a penchant for borrowing Doyoung’s clothes, especially when winter was arriving, but he always looked ridiculous, the shirts and sweaters drowning him in thick fabric.

Doyoung liked his space to be neat and almost minimalist, but every week Ten came home with another knickknack to squeeze onto their already overflowing shelves.

They never seemed to like the same kind of food, so even something as simple as ordering takeout became an ordeal when they were overtired and hungry and wanting the normalcy of sharing food only to realise they wanted to order from completely different restaurants.

Still, there was a big gap between perfection and not worth the effort, and Ten was much closer to perfection.

Doyoung could deal with eating something he didn’t like if it meant watching the snow fall in December, warm from Ten’s embrace and the sleepy breathing against his neck.

“I picked up some groceries while I was on my way home last night,” Ten mumbled. “And since it’s almost the merry season or whatever, I got some figs.”

It made Doyoung momentarily look away from the heavy fall of snow. “Figs?” he repeated.

“Yeah. You like figs, right? And Google said that they’re festive or something.”

“You hate fruit, Ten. I think if you so much as licked a fig you’d be bedbound and quickly hospitalised.”

Ten laughed, low and drowsy. “Yeah, but you like fruit. Do you like figs?”

“I think so, but I haven’t eaten them in years.” They’d been his Grandfather’s favourite fruit. Their odd texture and lingering taste reminding him of a childhood long past, memories long faded. “Thank you,” Doyoung said. “I’ll try one later and see if they’re as nice as I remember.”

“It’s okay if they’re not, I know that Johnny likes them,” Ten murmured, fingertips grazing softly over Doyoung’s bare arm. “He and Taeyong are still coming for dinner tomorrow, right? I’ve wrapped all the gifts.”

“Yeah, they are. Yuta, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, and Taeil will be coming too, but I think they’re arriving a little later.”

Ten hummed, and their quiet faded into silence.

It was peaceful in a way that Doyoung never thought he’d find. With his quick laughter and sharp moods, Ten didn’t often portray himself as someone that liked silence. Laughing at the beach with his friends, watching with interest as Doyoung kicked his way along the sand, book in hand and little else to his name. Ten hadn’t portrayed himself as someone that would like Doyoung’s silences.

But he did.

In the way that magnets connected, opposites attracted, whether Doyoung wanted them to or not. Whether he acknowledged it or otherwise, there was peace in disagreement, in gentle debate. There was peace in never sharing food, in laughing at too big clothes, at having to carry Ten from the couch to bed in the early hours of the morning.

There was peace in eating figs in the middle of the night, stupidly jealous at the thought of your boyfriend’s best friend eating the food that had been bought for you.

There was peace in Ten wandering through to the kitchen, confused by the noise and the empty space in the bed, only to almost crack a rib laughing at Doyoung’s humiliation, the hollow figs littering the countertop.

There was peace to waking up with snow inches deep on the balcony beside the bed, Ten asleep on Doyoung’s chest, tiny hands wrapped around Doyoung’s fingers, breathing even.

It didn’t make sense to find peace in someone unfamiliar, but Ten, despite his mystery, had never truly been unfamiliar. He was too warm for that, too open. Too quick to smile and laugh. Too quick to love.

Too quick to wake, excited by the winter weather, shoving Doyoung onto the balcony in his pyjamas, bare feet immediately turning red against the snow.

Ten laughed as he took pictures of the sea over the rooftops of white, the tip of his pointed nose already turning purple as his toes scrunched up beneath the too long pants of the pyjamas he’d stolen from Doyoung’s closet.

“Taeyong will be so happy,” Ten murmured, staring out at the city as his breath clouded in the air. “He loves the snow. He’ll be giddy tonight if it continues while he’s here. You know he loves our balcony.”

Doyoung hummed. He looked back down at Ten’s cold feet. “You should go inside and dry yourself off before you get ill,” he said.

Ten just laughed. “Logic doesn’t matter when it’s snowing,” he said. “But I wouldn’t say no to a green tea if you’re so intent on warming me up.”

Doyoung rolled his eyes, kissing the side of Ten’s head before heading back inside to fill the kettle and pull out the box of tea. He thought, briefly, if he should tell Ten about what was to come. Johnny had begged him not to, but he didn’t keep many secrets from Ten, especially not about their friends.

But like Ten had said, logic didn’t matter when it was snowing. If Ten knew, he’d cry. He wouldn’t be able to keep the joy to himself when he saw the outline of the velvet box in Johnny’s pocket. He wouldn’t be able to keep the joy to himself when Taeyong wandered onto the balcony to watch the snow, and Johnny trailed behind, ring clasped behind his back.

As another pair of opposites, Doyoung couldn’t help but respect the way Johnny had planned everything out. Taeyong wouldn’t be expecting it, despite how much he dreamt of the perfect proposal, planning hypothetical weddings in his head with Ten, wine drunk on the evenings they decided to be fragile and free together, leaving Johnny and Doyoung to be the steady ones.

Pouring the hot water into two mugs, Doyoung thought about Ten’s poor, frozen feet. Whilst the logical part of him was worried, the rest was relieved. Relieved that while Ten was his opposite, he was not unfamiliar or unpredictable. Relieved that while he stole all of Doyoung’s clothes, his feet remained bare, Doyoung’s sock drawer untouched, the velvet box nestled inside remaining blissfully undiscovered.


End file.
